


Cold Brewed

by lil_1337



Category: Donald Strachey Mysteries (movie)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Timmy likes his job as a manager in training for a chain of grocery stores, but it is the new security guard that really captures his attention.  Written for the AU/Crossovers challenge at <a href="http://tim-don-a-thon.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://tim-don-a-thon.livejournal.com/"></a><b>tim_don_a_thon</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Brewed

The calendar said there was less than a week to Halloween, but when he stepped out of the store into the early evening sunshine Timmy could have sworn it was closer to labor day or possibly the fourth of July. He slipped on his sunglasses and let the residual heat of the day soak through his no longer crisp white button up. He carried his black apron, carefully folded, in one hand and with the other manhandled his bus pass out of his wallet. Fortunately it was made of a sturdy plastic coated paper so it did fold or tear despite the less than kind treatment.

The stop at the corner was crowded and Timmy found himself standing just under the roof of the shelter in the only scrap of shade that wasn't occupied. It was that time of year again when the winter visitors were starting to arrive and larger, more metropolitan, towns started shipping off their marginalized citizens to places where they would be less likely to upset the tourists. It wouldn't do to have wealthy part time residents take their spending money elsewhere.

The bus was late and Timmy could feel the sweat rolling down between his shoulder blades as he slid his pass through the card reader. Scanning the mostly full vehicle he shuffled down the aisle maneuvering around a folded stroller, a walker, and several small children. Collapsing into one of the hard plastic seats he leaned back against the window and closed his eyes. Once again he pondered the idea of putting off the down payment on the town house that had caught his eye to buy a car. Nothing fancy, something solid and reliable that would get him to work and back without dying by the side of the road.

The problem was, it wasn't just the cost of the car he had to consider. He would need to factor in gas, insurance, and regular maintenance as well. One or two he could stretch his budget to handle, but all of them together would take a big bite out of his less than stellar paycheck. Despite the occasional inconvenience it was better to stick with the much smaller expense of a monthly bus pass and deal with the annoyances when and if they arose. Once he was finished with this manager in training business he would have his own store and not having a car would no longer be an option, but by then he would be in the town house and making payments that would be less than his rent. Not to mention the bump in pay, and responsibilities, that would come with making the transition from manger in training to actual manager.

The down side of that, of course, was that he would had to change stores again. While Timmy understood the reasoning for the rule he also thought it was a shame that he would have to leave and once again learn a whole new group of people. He was developing a strange fondness for the customers at his current placement, something that had not happened before. He'd only been there a month, but that was long enough to get to know the quirks of some of the regulars.

There was Miss Suryila who, according to her purchases, lived on orange cream yogurt, blueberry bagels and smoked Gouda with the occasional package of overstuffed potato skins thrown in to spice things up. Mr. Smithson who was at least ninety and still spry despite the walker. He called all the baggers young man and young lady no matter how old they were and tried to tip them with a dollar for helping take his groceries to his grandson's car. And, of course, Mrs McKinley who strode around as if she owned the place and underneath was one of the nicest people Timmy had ever met. He'd seen her hold the door for a very pregnant woman and buy stickers for a little boy she spotted staring longingly at the machines in the front of the store.

Timmy shifted trying to find a comfortable position on the barely padded seat that was definitely not designed with someone with his height as a consideration and let his mind drift as his eyes slid shut. Mentally he began to build the employee roster for the coming week. Bub had requested Friday off because his son had a performance at school and Melissa was switching Tuesday for Thursday morning with Alex. Mrs. Platt, the manager, was going to be in early on Monday to do the monthly counts so Timmy could sleep in a little bit that day. A rare commodity these days and one he greatly appreciated.

Then there was Alice, one of the ladies who worked in the deli. She was on her last warning for absenteeism and Timmy wanted to make sure that he had someone in place to cover in case she called out again. It might be time to do some cross training as the number of people with that specific skill set was limited and that made finding coverage dicey at best.

At least this store was better than his last one. There he'd had the dubious pleasure of firing two people. Even though the reasons were valid and process had been followed to the letter that part of his job was far and away the most unpleasant. To be honest, Timmy was hoping Alice would either quit or stop coming and save him the unpleasant task of walking her out. However, he wasn't going to hold his breath it would play out that cleanly since fate generally wasn't that kind.

The bus jerked as it slowed and Timmy opened his eyes, surprised to realize that while he had been planning schedules his vehicular carriage had made its lumbering way across town. Standing in anticipation of his stop he swayed as they crossed the intersection before coming to a less than graceful stop in front of a scarred metal sign. It announced in large faded letters that despite the lack of a bench or any type of shelter, it was indeed a fully authorized bus stop. Wearily, Timmy climbed off, stepping aside briefly to let an elderly woman on, and began the half mile walk to his apartment.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

When Timmy arrived at the store the next morning to open up the first thing he noticed was that Frank, the usual security guard, wasn't out front. In his place was a short, solidly muscled, blond who Timmy was sure he would have remembered if had seen him before. Forcing himself not to stare and to conduct himself as a professional manner he approached the man. Smiling in a way that he hoped was more 'I want to know the people I work with' and less 'I'd like to lick chocolate sauce from your abs' though, honestly, he was feeling the second urge a lot stronger than the first.

“You're not Frank.” Timmy cringed, not at all pleased at the impression he was undoubtedly making.

“You've got good eyes.” The blond smiled, clearly amused, considering that Frank was ten years older, five inches taller and a good three shades darker. “Donald Strachey.” Held out a hand and Timmy took it, pleased that the handshake was firm without any male posturing. “He resigned yesterday so you get me instead. At least until I decide to take pity on Kenny and let him have day shift.”

Timmy suppressed a powerful urge to say that he would happily take Donald in a multitude of creative and enthusiastic ways. Instead he cleared his throat before speaking to give himself a minute to remember he was a grown man who was in complete control of himself not a hormone driven teenager. “Timothy Callahan. Manager in training.” Timmy turned slightly, reluctantly pulling his gaze away so that he could unlock the door. The alarm system was already disarmed as the night manager, stockers and several other people who worked in departments with early deliveries such as produce and meats were hitting the middle of their shifts by now.

With a slight flourish Timmy stepped aside pulling the door with him and gestured. “There'll be coffee in the office as soon as I get a pot started. You're welcome to help yourself.” The late night crew kept a pot brewing in the back area and tended to treat day shift workers that encroached on it like cockroaches or other vermin meant to be crushed under the heel of their disdain. Timmy had learned that line of delineation quickly, only needing to cross it once.

“Thanks, but I can't.” Donald sounded genuinely disappointed though whether it was because of the lack of coffee or Timmy's company he couldn't tell. “I have strict orders to stay outside and watch the parking lot and loading deck until the store opens. Thanks for the offer though. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Timmy shoved aside the disappointment. “Nice to meet you. Have a good day.”

“You too.” Donald grinned before turning to make his way across the parking lot. He walked with a nice casual stroll that gave Timmy plenty of time to send a mental thank you to which ever deity was in charge of the design of uniform pants and the perfect ass underneath them.

Once inside the store Timmy mentally shifted gears, returning his focus to the job at hand. He made his usual tour of the store noting what shelves looked messy or bare and which end caps, if any, were ready to be changed out. In the office he filled the coffee pot and started it brewing before he pulled out the roster for next week to add what he had sorted out on the ride home the previous evening.

The rich aromatic smell of fresh brew pulled him from his paper work a few minutes later. Setting down his pen Timmy stood and crossed to where the carafe was filling up drop by precious drop. He poured a mug and took a long sip; smiling as the caffeine hit his system. When the cup was almost a quarter gone he set it down and pulled one of the Styrofoam ones from the stack near the coffee maker. Without letting himself think about his reasons or motives he filled it almost to the top then turned to leave the office.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Since Donald couldn't come to the coffee...” Timmy held out the disposable cup wondering if he was being too obscure or possibly way too forward. This wasn't like him, but strangely it felt right.

“The coffee had to come to Donald.” The man in question grinned as he accepted the steaming offering, his whole body radiating gratitude and happiness. “Thank you.”

Timmy grinned back pleased that his small gesture had made the intended impact. “I didn't know how you liked it.” He pulled his hand out of the apron pocket and opened it to reveal several small plastic tubs of creamer as well as packets of sugar and artificial sweetener.

Donald selected the sugar and added it before taking a long slow drink. “Perfect.” He grinned again and Timmy felt his toes curl in response. “Hot and sweet exactly the way I like it.” He took another drink and Timmy tried to tell himself he should go back inside now that he had accomplished his mission, but he couldn't bring himself to move. Watching Donald sip coffee was the most enthralling thing he had ever seen. “You're the nicest manager I've met. Most of them act as if I'm either a nuisance or don't exist.”

Timmy chuckled though he couldn't hide the underlying displeasure he felt. While it was true that the security guards were employed by the company that the store contracted to it went against what he believed in to treat anyone as invisible or less valuable because of his or her job. “Well,” Timmy tried to lighten the atmosphere when he noticed that Donald was studying him with a speculative look. “I'm still in training.”

The chuckle that rumbled out of Donald carried a warmth that hit Timmy on a very visceral level. “Somehow I don't think they are going to be able to brainwash the nice out of you. That's a good thing.”

Timmy raised an eyebrow but said nothing, acutely aware of the heat currently flaming on his cheeks. He cleared his throat several times before finding his voice though it was distressingly husky when he spoke. “Thank you. I'll remember that when I'm sitting under the bare bulb.” He was embarrassingly pleased at the smile and laugh that his comment pulled from Donald. With a smirk on his face he headed back inside to finish his work.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Two weeks later, somewhere between the post Halloween clearance and the Pre-Christmas rush Timmy woke in the early morning hours to the sound of rain softly pattering on the roof. Having lived in the Southwest for most of his life it was enough of a novelty to bring a smile to his face. His first instinct was to check the clock to reassure himself that he still had a few hours to sleep. His second was to bolt straight up with the realization that Donald was going to be outside in the cold and rain for the bulk of his day. What had been a happy moment quickly morphed into one of concern. Hoping for a quick end to the much needed precipitation Timmy curled back under his covers and tried to remember where he had stored his spare umbrella and extra thermos.

Fortunately for the rest of the city, though unfortunately for Timmy, the weather did not concede to his whim or preferences. It continued to come down in a steady cold stream with no signs of giving up any time in the near future. The bus itself was warm, dry, and filled with people huddled together to stave off the feeling of isolation that wet, gray days bring. At least the rain was gracious enough to slow while Timmy huddled under his umbrella waiting at his stop as well as slowing to an icy drizzle as he made his way across the parking lot to the store.

He found Donald in his usual spot though huddled closer to the building than normal. Water rolled off the slick surface of his jacket, but his knitted cap was soaked through. Moving quickly so that he was under the overhang of the roof Timmy lowered his umbrella. With practiced ease he held it off to the side and shook it before closing it loosely. Smiling sympathetically at Donald's imitation of a drowned rat he pulled the backpack he was carrying off his shoulder and unzipped it. From it he pulled an old, but well maintained red and black plaid thermos which he offered to Donald.

Hesitating for barely a split second Donald accepted it and began to unscrew the top. “You know.” He began conversationally. “If this is a test to see I can be bribed then the answer is yes. Just hand me the disciplinary papers and I'll sign them right now. I'll even accept being sent home as punishment.”

“At least you'd be inside out of the rain for the rest of the day.” Timmy's tone was as dry as the day was not.

Donald chuckled and nodded his agreement. “You do have a way of finding the silver lining.” He finished undoing the outer and inner tops before pouring a small amount into the cap and taking a drink. His eyes widened and he downed the rest of it ignoring the steam curling out of the thermos. “Oh, God, that's good.” He paused and licked his lips, frowning as he did so apparently oblivious to the way Timmy's eyes followed his every movement. “There's something in it. Something sweet with just a hint of spice.”

Timmy grinned. He couldn't help himself from feeling inordinately pleased that Donald had noticed how he had doctored the coffee. “Cinnamon and a touch of hazelnut. It's an old family recipe handed down from Callahan to Callahan since the dawn of time.”

“My compliments to the barista.” Donald poured another cup before he carefully tightened down the inner cap of the thermos to keep the heat in. He sipped slowly, taking his time to savor the warm drink before screwing the top back onto the thermos. With a contented smile he offered the thermos back. “Thanks for sharing. It hit the spot. I feel a lot warmer now.”

Frowning Timmy shook his head at the proffered thermos. “That's for you. Bring it in to the office when you finish it and I'll refill it for you, though you'll have to settle for the regular stuff. It's too wet and cold to be out here without something to keep the chill off.”

“I...” Donald opened then closed his mouth several times, struggling for words that would not come. Settling instead for clutching the thermos to his chest as if it was a life raft in shark infested waters. “Thank you.”

Ducking his head to hide the blush he knew was suffusing his cheeks Timmy dug into the back pack and pulled out an umbrella. It was smaller than the one he carried as it folded into a compact cylinder for traveling, but it was sturdy and big enough to keep the rain off. “I thought you might need one.” He offered it to Donald who took it gently as if the umbrella was made of delicate porcelain instead of metal and waterproof cloth. The shy smile that hovered quickly across his lips then disappeared much too quickly simultaneously broke Timmy's heart and made it sing.

“Thank you.” Donald smiled again, bright and genuine. “I..uh...should get back out there.” With fingers that fumbled only slightly he opened the umbrella and moved away from the sheltered protection of the building. When he walked away there was a lightness to his step that Timmy had never seen before.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The rain had stopped by the time Timmy's shift ended leaving a crystal blue sky that made the deceptively cold air that much more of a shock. Huddling down into his jacket to keep the wind that was just beginning to blow off his neck Timmy hurried across the parking lot. At least the bus stop was covered and should block most of the ice coated breeze. The walk home was another thing, but he would worry about that when he got that far.

“Hey.” The single word pulled Timmy out of single minded focus on shelter and he turned to see Donald leaning against a car that had definitely seen better days.

Timmy stopped, surprised that Donald was not already long gone. Though the bulk of their shifts overlapped Donald started a couple of hours before Timmy. Plus he often worked longer than the standard eight due to the expectations of the job. One of the downsides to being the boss. “I thought you'd left.”

“I did.” Donald blushed and ran his down his slacks catching Timmy's eye and bringing with it the revelation that Donald was not wearing his security uniform. The palette of grays Timmy was used to seeing him in had been replaced by dark blue dress slacks, a pale blue button down and a tie that was a tasteful mix of the two shades. “But I came back. I thought...” He shuffled a little before holding out the thermos. “I can't cook and my coffee sucks, but I make a killer martini so I made some for you. To say thank you.”

“I love a good martini. Thank you.” Timmy accepted the thermos, holding it to him as if it was the most precious thing he owned. “That was very kind of you.” He studied Donald, letting his appreciation show on his face. “Did you dress up just to bring me martinis or do you have other plans for the evening?”

Donald blushed, dropping his gaze to the puddled asphalt. “I was hoping you might want to share them. The martinis. If you don't that's okay. I..”

“I'd love to.” Timmy cut him off then stepped closer, moving into Donald's personal space. The casual closeness caused him to startle and look up though he did not move away. “But only if you let me buy you dinner first.”

Donald's brilliant grin spoke for him and as Timmy let himself be led around the car to the passenger side he decided that maybe, this time, the rain had a good thing after all.


End file.
